The Winter Solstice is nearly here, bringing the year’s longest night on December 21 and the promise of brighter days ahead. The word solstice comes from the Latin sol (“sun”) and sistere (“to stand still”), marking the moment when the sun’s path reaches its lowest point in the northern sky.
As animals hibernate and plants rest underground, solstice traditions fittingly encourage nourishment, reflection, and connection.
Last year, I hosted a cozy gathering of women at my home. Evergreen boughs filled the house with their fragrant scent, mingling with warm finger foods and hot cider. A friend offered tarot readings, as divination practices add a touch of intrigue, giving us a playful glimpse of the future.
Since reflection is central to the season, we shared stories about the past year and honoured the passing of a dear friend who would have joyfully hosted such a celebration. The solstice is the perfect moment to ask yourself what you want to improve, remove, start, or continue. Writing down your intentions helps anchor them and channel the power of your thoughts.
Guests are invited to bring a small offering—such as fruit, an acorn, or a homemade treat—to dedicate to a deity, spirit, or loved one. You might also bake a Yule cake as an offering to the hammer-wielding god Thor, asking for strength, protection, and help in warding off winter’s darkness. And yes, you can offer your cake and eat it too! These rolled sponge cakes with chocolate icing are decorated to resemble Yule logs, which people still burn in their fireplaces today. Historically, whole trees were slowly burned over days to ensure future abundance.
For anyone celebrating alone or short on time, you can still make the solstice shine. Take a brief walk outdoors and challenge yourself to notice ten patterns in nature. Gather a small evergreen sprig, then head home to light a candle. Try a bit of fire scrying by watching the flame for shapes or symbolic impressions.
Journal about what you observe and what you’re ready to release, then choose one word to guide you in the coming year. Save it until the Summer Solstice as a message to your future self.
This year’s solstice conveniently falls on a Sunday, and I’ll be hosting a beachside bonfire, building it just below the tideline at 4 p.m. to ensure we catch the sunset. Fire symbolizes renewal, and we’ll enjoy hours of roasting food, merriment, and toasting to the year ahead before the tide extinguishes the last embers.
I hope to sing songs in the spirit of wassailing, a winter tradition meant to awaken the earth. And before the night ends, look up to catch the Ursid meteor shower streaking across the sky. A perfect reminder that, as Richard Evans wrote, “It is often in the darkest skies that we see the brightest stars.”
